


Flagship

by TheFlirtMeister



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ernesto doesn't murder Hector, F/M, Instead he goes home with him, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/pseuds/TheFlirtMeister
Summary: “You were so drunk that I had to carry you onto the train.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “You need to hold your alcohol better my friend.”“Ugh.” Hector says, and rubs his temples. “What happened last night?”“We did a lot of talking.” Ernesto replies.Hector frowns, and Ernesto quietly tugs down the collar of his shirt to reveal red and purple bruises.





	Flagship

**Author's Note:**

> what a good children's movie.......... time to rub my little gay hands over it

i.

Hector decides to go home. It is a decision that comes with much deliberation, packing, and then repacking his suitcase, frowning at each object he takes in and then out again. It is not that everything is so awful here that he has to leave – he loves the music, and the songs, and the sound of unsharpened pencils scribbling down lyrics. He loves the drinking, and the shouting of success and laughter.

(He loves Ernesto’s hot breath on his neck and the gasps muffled by pillows and hands all over him.)

Still, there is Imelda at home, beautiful and angry all at once, and a baby, Coco, who is too chubby for words. He dreams of them at night, at Imelda scolding him playfully, and Coco babbling nonsense words that Hector could listen to over and over, and never tire of them. He misses them so much that his body aches.

“I have to go.” He tells Ernesto, whose face falls.

“Go?” He asks, “Why?”

They are in the tiny room, and Ernesto is wearing only trousers. Hector is fully dressed and there’s some part of him that wants to strip everything off and climb under the covers and never leave again. Instead, he squares his shoulders.

“I have a wife.” He says, and Ernesto blinks, slow. “I have a baby. I have a family.”

Ernesto lifts up his arms. “Am I not your family?” He asks, a little hopeful.

“Of course.” Hector says, “But….”

He trails off. They both know what he means even though he cannot say it. They love each other, and they cannot love each other all at once.

“Come back with me.” Hector says. “I’m sure Imelda has some sister for you to marry, a cousin with a sizable dowry.”

Ernesto laughs but there is sourness to it. “I do not want a wife Hector.”

Hector has memories of finding Ernesto with other men, the way they had both flushed, embarrassed at their own actions. Hector, for interrupting, and Ernesto, for his own desires.

“Maybe she has a brother?” Hector offers, and Ernesto’s lips quirk into a smile.

“I don’t think so.” He says, quiet. Hector talks of many foolish things, but this is the most idiotic of them.

“I’m sorry.” Hector says, and then moves towards his suitcase. “But I have to go.”

“One last drink?” Ernesto offers, “Before you leave?”

“Of course.” Hector says, because he cannot deny his best friend anything.

Ernesto pours them shots, straight from the bottle. Hector drinks, and then Ernesto, and the sourness hits Hector’s belly like a punch to the gut.

“God.” He says, and then Ernesto’s mouth is on his, and Hector’s back is against the wall, and they are kissing, kissing, _kissing_.

 

ii.

Hector wakes to the bump and shuffle of the train. He tries to sit upright sharply, but his body betrays him, and all he can do is sleepily lift his head. Everything feels slow and muggy, the taste of bile at the back of his throat. He smacks his lips together and hears a familiar laugh across from him.

He looks over to find Ernesto sitting opposite him. He is wearing casual clothes, and his guitar is slung across his lap. He is cleaning the strings, carefully, running a cloth along the wire to remove the dirt that builds up.

“You were so drunk that I had to carry you onto the train.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “You need to hold your alcohol better my friend.”

“Ugh.” Hector says, and rubs his temples. “What happened last night?”

“We did a lot of talking.” Ernesto replies.

Hector frowns, and Ernesto quietly tugs down the collar of his shirt to reveal red and purple bruises. Hector blinks and then a stupid little smile crosses his face.

“Whoops.”

“You’re a menace to society.” Ernesto says, and pulls his shirt collar back. “And you sing badly when you are drunk.”

“Psh.” Hector says, “I am amazing!”

He looks about the train compartment, which is empty except for them. A guard stands in the hallway outside, back turned to them, but still a worry.

Hector feels like he is forgetting something. “Wait…. Where is my suitcase?”

Ernesto nods towards the overhead compartment. “All tucked away up there. Don’t worry. I didn’t forget anything.”

“Good, good.” Hector says, and then realises. “You are coming with me? Home?”

“Of course.” Ernesto replies. “How could I not?”

A wide grin spreads across Hector’s face, and if he was not trying to vomit over himself, he would clamber off the seat and throw himself into his friend’s lap in glee. Instead he sticks out a hand, grabbing hold of Ernesto’s own.

“This makes me very happy.” He says, squeezing tightly. “Thank you.”

Ernesto shrugs. “It’s no problem.” He says, but grips Hector’s hand with a fierceness. “I haven’t been yelled at in a while, I missed Imelda.”

Hector laughs, and then his eyes brighten. “Imelda!” He says with a hungriness. “God. She is going to kill us both.”

“Of course.”

“Honestly, we are both dead men.” Hector shakes his head fondly. “I can almost feel her shoe against my head.”

Ernesto snorts. “Muscle memory.”

“Exactly.” Hector says, and flops back against the seats he’s laying on. “Ah. I am the happiest man alive!”

“You fool.” Ernesto says, and Hector looks at him to see the man shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Hector only grins and closes his eyes to dream of his family.

 

iii.

Imelda meets them at the train station. She is dressed in purple, deep enough to be black, and she is worrying at her bottom lip, eyes darting at everyone who walks past. Coco is in her arms, tugging lightly at her mother’s hair, and when Hector barrels his way towards them, her face lights up.

“Papa!” She cries out, sticking out her fat little arms.

“My little girl!” Hector drops his suitcase on the middle of the platform and rushes at them, collecting Coco into his arms and kissing Imelda noisily all at once.

“Ey!” Imelda says, shoving him off her. “You go missing for months, you abandon your family, and still think you can come here and kiss me?”

“Yes?” Hector offers meekly, and she rolls her eyes, pulling him close.

“Moron.” She sniffs, and kisses him, open mouthed.

Hector doesn’t know how long they stand there, but soon he hears a polite cough from behind him. He pulls away from Imelda, who chases his mouth only slightly, and finds Ernesto there, holding both their suitcases.

“Ernesto!” Hector says, detangling himself from Imelda, who still has a firm grip on him.

“You always complain about public displays of affection.” Ernesto says, raising one eyebrow.

“Only when you are making out with random girls in my face.” Hector says, and then bounces Coco on his hip. “Coco look! It’s your uncle Ernesto.”

“The famous wanderer returns.” Imelda says, staring Ernesto down. “What have you been doing with my husband?”

A guilty look crosses Hector’s face, but Ernesto only smirks. “I’ve been treating him well.” He says, and then offers a hand. “I’m sorry for keeping him away for so long.”

“Huh.” Imelda says, but takes his hand. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, De La Cruz. I know what you womanizer’s are like.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.” Ernesto promises, and Hector grins.

“My family, all together!” He announces, and gives Coco a big kiss on the cheek to make her laugh.

“Papa!” She says happily, and Hector bounces her harder.

“Careful.” Imelda says, “She’s just had lunch. If she throws up on you, it’s all your fault.”

“You won’t throw up on me, will you?” Hector holds Coco above his head and shakes her. “No! What a good baby you are!”

Coco lovingly drools over Hector’s face, and Hector grimaces. “Ah. Maybe you will.”

Imelda rolls her eyes, and Ernesto shakes his head. It will take a while, but Hector thinks he can make them get along.

Maybe.

 

iv.

That night, after being stuffed with food, Hector collapses into bed. Ernesto is having to share Coco’s room at the moment, until he can find his own place. Coco finds this all fascinating, and Hector had stood in the doorway earlier and watched Ernesto sing to her.

“You will be a good father someday.” He whispers to Ernesto when Coco has fallen asleep.

Ernesto looks at him and pulls a face. “I don’t think that will ever happen.”

“Still,” Hector reaches out and touches Ernesto lightly on the shoulder. “You are good with her.”

“Yes.” Ernesto says, and smiles. “I suppose I am.”

Now Ernesto is asleep on the other side of the wall, or so Hector hopes, and Hector is in bed with his wife. For the first time in _months_. Hector had expected a cold shoulder, for them to sleep with a gap between them, a gap almost big enough for another person to squeeze in.

Instead, they are kissing one another, and Imelda is straddling his lap whilst trying to undo the buttons on Hector’s shirt without looking.

“You can stop kissing me you know.” Hector whispers, between her mouth on his. “I don’t mind.”

“Hush.” Imelda says, peppering him with kisses as her fingers work blindly. “I can do this.”

“Obviously not.” Hector says, and Imelda laughs and hits him playfully.

“Which one of us works with material all day?”

“Which one of us can play guitar?” Hector retorts, and she holds his head in her hands.

“You are one big dummy.” She says, and kisses his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hector replies, and then pulls her down on top of him. She gives a quiet shriek of surprise, and Hector attacks her with kisses, laughing all the while. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Ah!” She cries out, laughing and trying to kiss him back all at once.

There’s a creaking from the other side of the wall, and they both clutch each other like teenagers, about to be caught by a parent. It’s probably just Ernesto rolling over in his sleep, and they look at one another and burst out into muffled laughter.

“God.” Imelda says, “Did he have to come back and live with us?”

“He’s practically family.” Hector protests. “I love the man.”

“I know, I know.” Imelda runs her hands through his hair. “He is your best friend.”

“He’s good with children.” Hector points out, “He can babysit for us.”

“Are you saying I’m not a good mother?” Imelda asks, and Hector quickly opens his mouth to apologise, when Imelda giggles. “I’m kidding. I know what you mean.”

“Ah, you trick me woman.” Hector laments, and then pokes her. “You know what that means though?”

“What does it mean?” She asks, humouring him.

“We can spend more time together, if he is out looking after Coco.” Hector says, slipping his hand down towards his trousers. “Lots of time together.”

“I like your thinking husband.” Imelda says, eyeing what he’s doing. “Very much so.”

“Good.” Hector says, and kisses his wife till she blushes.

 

 

v.

Ernesto is making porridge for Coco when Hector stumbles his way down the stairs. Imelda is having a well deserved lie-in, in fact, she was still snoring when Hector left her. At first he thinks he’s stumbled in a dream, some fantasy where he’s married to Ernesto instead, and then Coco burps loudly and disrupts Hector’s fantasy.

“Someone is enjoying her breakfast.” Hector says, leaning down to kiss Coco on her forehead. She gurgles at him happily and then presses her sticky porridge covered hand against his face. “Thank you.”

“I made enough for everyone.” Ernesto says, not looking up from the notebook he’s scribbling in. “If you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry.” Hector says, walking over to the stove top to ladle some of the porridge into a bowl.

“Oh yeah?” Ernesto looks at him. “I thought you would have been satisfied after last night?”

Hector blinks, and then blushes. “Ah, I thought you were asleep.”

“With the noise you were making?” Ernesto scoffs. “No chance. You’re loud enough to wake the dead.”

“I haven’t seen Imelda in ages!” Hector protests. “Years!”

“It’s barely been sixth months.” Ernesto says, and spoons more porridge into Coco’s mouth. “That’s no excuse.”

Hector curses Ernesto under his breath, and then sits down at the table. “I have to listen to you all the time when we’re on tour.”

“You don’t complain when we’re together and I’m noisy.” Ernesto says nonchalantly, and Hector chokes on his spoonful of porridge.

“Ernesto!” He says, “Not in front of the child. Or in my house.”

Ernesto raises his eyebrows but doesn’t stay anything. Instead he wipes Coco’s mouth and then lightly presses her nose like a button. Coco giggles and tries to catch hold of Ernesto’s hand but misses.

Hector chews his mouthful of food and then nods towards the notebook. “What are you writing?” He asks, trying to divert the tension.

“A song.” Ernesto says with deadpan voice.

“I assumed.” Hector says, and kicks him under the table.

“Dick.” Ernesto replies, and kicks him back. Hector hisses in pain and bends down to rub his shin. “Want to read the lyrics?”

Hector considers for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Sing it for me?”

Ernesto smiles and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose I could….”

“You asshole.” Hector says, and settles back to hear his friend sing.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know if i'll add more to this!!! i know i will probably write some more ernesto/hector tho


End file.
